Your Fake Name is Good Enough for Me
by awesomesausome
Summary: AU. Marta and Aaron weren't exactly strangers. What if Aaron was more than just number Five?
1. Your fake name isn't for everyone

Yeah, I don't know where this came from. But it's an AU look at the movie if Aaron and Marta had been secretly dating. I plan on continuing the other fic I'm working on, but this popped into my head and wouldn't let me write anything else. Hope you enjoy. The title is from the Iron and Wine song.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.

It's not unusual for Aaron to disappear for a while.

She has no idea where he is, or when he'll be back, and she's on edge until she hears the sound of his boots hitting her hardwood floor. He sneaks in the basement door because she can't convince him that they aren't watching her house.

"They're always watching, Doc," he insists. "You can't underestimate them. You have to be careful, you have to be aware. You have to be smart. I can't…you can't…" He usually trails off, twisting his fingers into her dark hair, and pulling her as close to him as he possibly can. "They're capable of anything, Marta. You have to remember that."

His words echo in her head as she cowers under her desk and her co-workers fall down dead around her.

When she finally gets back to her house, after hours of talking to police officers and the head of her program, and avoiding the massive amounts of press outside of the lab, she's still shaking, and she wants, more than anything, to hear the sounds of Aaron's boots on her floor. She knows it's unlikely. He's been gone the past few days, but he could turn up.

He always turns up unexpectedly. She's never sure when he's going to come, until he slips into her bed, tugs her towards him, and kisses her soundly with a murmured, "Missed you, Doc," into her neck. She sleeps so much better when he's there, his body wrapped around hers. She feels so much safer on those nights.

She wants him there so badly that she aches. She wants to tell him about Dr. Foite, about her fear that this wasn't just an un-hinged co-worker. She wants to tell him she's afraid that they are coming back to finish what they started. _They're capable of anything, Marta. _She wants to feel safe, and she can't without Aaron.

* * *

Marta is a lot of things, but she is certainly not stupid, and when people show up at her house the next day, she knows that they aren't there for the reason that they say they are. They aren't there because they're worried about her well-being after the shooting.

They are there to finish what Dr. Foite failed to do.

She's cursing herself when the Special Agent brings down the gun that Aaron insisted that she keep. When they pin her to the chair and the gun is pointing at her, she can't believe that this is how it's all going to end, and she struggles, and then Aaron is there. Bursting out of the pantry and yelling at her to run.

"Doc! Run!" He shouts and she doesn't hesitate. She flies up the stairs, clutching her gun in her hand. The great thing about her ramshackle house is there are a thousand places to hide. Her hands shake and she's terrified for Aaron, and for herself.

It's worse when the house goes quiet. Aaron's face is the last thing she expects to see as she holds the gun in her shaky hands.

"Doc," he breathes out, and he looks so relieved that she sees her tenuous grip on her emotions start to slip.

"Aaron!"

"Shhh, shhh," he kneels down in front her.

"Aaron," she whispers it this time, and he leans forward and presses a hard kiss to her lips. He leans his forehead against hers momentarily.

"Thank God you're okay," he mutters, when he pulls back, he's all business. "This is what I need you to do Doc." He explains to her as quickly and quietly as he can what she needs him to do and then he's gone again.

Once they are in the car, Aaron reaches his hand across and grabs hers.

"You're June Monroe, say it for me," he insists.

"I'm June Monroe," she repeats.

"You lost your wallet, and I'm giving you a ride home," his voice is forceful, but his grip on her hand is firm.

"Aaron?" Her voice is soft. "Dr. Foite? That was them. It was…" Her breath hitches and Aaron pulls the car over. He needs to hold her. He pulls her into his arms and presses a desperate kiss to her mouth.

It's his worst fear that the program will go after her. But he thought it would be because of him, because of their relationship. Never did he think it would be because they were burning the program to the ground. He's so proud of her for thinking on her feet, for escaping the lab shooting, for holding it together back at her house.

When he finally was back from Alaska and saw the news about the lab shooting, his heart stopped. No, no, no, no, not Marta.

But it wasn't Marta. She was okay. The lone survivor.

He knew they were going to come after her again. Just like they weren't going to stop coming after him. He needed to get to her before they did.

Aaron runs his hands through her hair and gives her one more kiss.

"We have another problem," he says. "The blue pills." Marta had told him about viraling off the greens. She had warned him that it was happening and how sick he would be. She took time off, under the guise of visiting her sister, and instead holed up in a motel with him, spending her days taking care of him until his fever broke and he was in the clear. She had been as surprised as he was when they continued giving him the green pills. It was her first clue that perhaps the program didn't exactly have their best interest at heart.

"It's keeping us on a short leash," Aaron had said, but they still had him on the leash, because he still needed those blue pills. Marta had already toyed with the idea of trying to figure out a way to stash blue pills for Aaron, but the program had kept them under lock and key. And the live virus was in Manila.

"The blues," Marta breaths out. "Oh God, Aaron." Her panic is back, and he tightens his grip on her hand.

"It'll be okay," he tells her. "I'll figure it out."

* * *

When they get to the motel, Aaron tells her that she should try to get some sleep. He already has a plan partially formed in his head, and needs to start working out the details. He already has passports made up for both of them. He's been planning on their escape since the very first time that she smiled at him in his first exam.

On the third exam, he waited for her and followed her until she had gone to a place without cameras or peering eyes. He told her how much looked forward to seeing her, and how sometimes it was the only thing that kept him going through a mission. He asked her out on a date with the agreed implication that there would be no real way to take her out on an actual date. He was surprised, pleasantly so, when she agreed. She made dinner at her house, which ended up having to be re-heated.

From that point on, he snuck into her house every chance he got, and quickly realized that he was in love with her, and that the program would kill both of them before they ever allowed the two of them to ride off happily together into the sunset.

This scenario, hiding in a motel while the program hunted for them, had played out in his head a million times. He would keep her safe, and in order to do that he needed to not be a slave to those blue pills.

"Will you lay with me?" Marta asks as she slides her tired body under the sheets. "I need...I just need…I need you." And Aaron doesn't hesitate. He checks the door locks for the hundredth time and slips in next to her. She lays her head down on his chest and he tightens his grip.

"I'm not going to let anything, or anyone, hurt you," he promises as he skims his hand up and down her arm.

"Thank you for coming for me," she says softly, and Aaron's hand stops, and kisses the top of her head.

"I'll always come for you," he tells her. "Always."


	2. It's good enough for me

Thanks so much for the reviews! Yes, I do plan on continuing, and yes, we will see more flashbacks of their time together. Without further ado…

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.

* * *

He makes Marta go through security alone, and he's a nervous wreck the whole time. The fact that no one knows about their relationship, or that he's even alive, is one of the best things they have going for them, and Aaron wants to keep it that way. He knows that they must know by now that Marta's body is not in the burned down house, and they have to know _someone_ is working for her. There's just no way that a scientist could have taken down that many CIA agents on her own. They've underestimated his warrior woman, but they won't do it again.

The thought of Marta being burned along with her house is enough to make him shiver and look up at her. She's sitting at a table; her hair is falling in front of her face, and she wore her glasses, which he always teased her about. She's beautiful, and she looks around nervously, which makes him nervous.

He's nervous until they are safely on the plane, and she catches his eye, and she's just as relieved to be on the plane as he is. Step one: get out of the county. Check.

* * *

Their first date was not like other first dates.

Then again, Aaron Cross had never been on a first date, and Kenneth Kitsom's idea of a first date was to take a girl to Bob Evans and let her choose whatever she wanted from the kids' menu.

In another life, Aaron would have liked to have taken her out on a proper date, complete with a fancy dinner and maybe drinks somewhere. But that was just too dangerous.

It had been her idea for him to just come over to her place for dinner. Aaron had slipped her a note to meet him at a small café just down the street from the lab, and they had quickly made plans before she hurried back to work.

She seemed to understand the need for secrecy, and he knew that it went against her instincts to take a chance like this on him. It made his heart beat faster just thinking about her breaking rules for him.

He arrived at her cellar door and knocked twice, which had been what they had agreed on.

"I really don't think that anyone is watching my house," she had started to argue.

"They're capable of anything, Marta," he had said. Her eyes had widened, and she hadn't argued again.

When she pulled open the door, gone was the scientist. Gone was the hair pulled back into a no-nonsense bun. Gone was the lab coat. She looked beautiful, her dark hair falling onto her shoulders and a warm sweater wrapped around her.

She had moved aside to let him into the house and led him up the creaky stairs to the dilapidated kitchen.

"Great place," he said. It was a great house, or would be when it was fixed up. Marta looked around and gave a small shrug.

"I fell in love with it, and realized too late how much work it would be," she answered, pulling out a bottle of wine. "Wine?" Aaron didn't drink. Ever.

"No thanks, but please, don't let me stop you," he answered. He liked to keep his head clear. It was the training drilled into him. It was impossible to turn off. Marta hesitated for only a moment before pouring just one glass of wine.

"I hope you're hungry, I made chicken kiev," she said as she drained her first glass. Then she shook her head and gave him a small smile. "Actually, that's a lie. I can't cook to save my life. I ordered in. But I feel very confident about my take-out skills."

He helped her set the table, and she poured herself another glass of wine, and his fingers grazed hers as they put out the silverware, and that was all it took. Suddenly he was kissing her senseless against her dining room wall.

"Bedroom?" He asked.

"Upstairs," she answered between kisses. "Top of the stairs. Left." He scooped her up in his arms easily and carried her up the winding staircase.

Later, after Marta re-heated the food, she sat across from him at the dining room table wearing just his t-shirt and a large smile, and he knew right then that he was in trouble.

* * *

Manila's hot. And crowded. And noisy.

Marta's nervous about their plan. Aaron assures her that simple is better. Simple is always better, but she's biting her nails the way that she does when she's worrying, and he covers her hand in his and turns her so that she looks him in the eyes.

"Doc. We're going to be okay. It's going to work. We're going to go in there, and we're going to get the virus and then you're going to administer it and everything's going to be fine."

It doesn't quite work out like that, but Aaron is just thankful that they are out and alive and lost in the sea of workers leaving the factory. He makes them walk for what feels like forever before getting a room.

Marta frowns as she holds the syringe in her shaking hand.

"So many things could go wrong," she mutters and Aaron reaches up and grabs her free hand. He stands up and kisses her desperately.

"Doc," he whispers tucking back a piece of hair behind her ear. "You need to. I'm no good to you if I revert back to the way I was. I'm worse than no good. I'm a liability." He knows she's scared, and he kisses her again.

"What if..." she starts, and he cuts her off with another kiss.

"I trust you," he tells her firmly. "I love you."

"I love you," she replies.

"Whatever happens," he squeezes her hand. "We'll be okay." He doesn't know if she believes him or not, but she jerks her head a couple of times and takes a deep breath.

"Here goes nothing," she mutters.

And Aaron doesn't remember much else after that, except for her cool hands and her soft voice, and her worried eyes.


	3. Fake watches in your broken hand

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.

* * *

Marta hated feeling helpless.

And here, in this grungy motel room, wiping Aaron's fevered face down with a cool cloth and holding his hand, she had never felt more helpless.

He woke up long enough to grab at her hand and insist she take the forty grand he had stashed in the lining of his coat and run.

"Take it, Doc. You can make it. You're a warrior. I love you. I love you," he was firm, but she was firmer.

"Shush," She held his head against her body, and tried not to wince at how hot his forehead was. "Not a chance, Cross. You're stuck with me," she pressed a kiss to his hot forehead.

He had been sleeping fitfully from that point on, and though she was surprised to realize it, she was bored.

When his fever, finally, _finally_, broke she gave him another light kiss on the lips and headed out to grab some things. If they were going to go on the run, they were going to need basic medical supplies, and maybe a couple of changes of clothes. Her clothes were already stiff with dirt and use, and she wanted more than anything to take the world's longest, hottest bath.

She didn't miss her ramshackle house much, but she did miss her bathtub. She loved her bathtub. She loved it even more when Aaron was there, her back up against his strong chest, sinking into the hot, warm water.

She was trying to pay for the items they needed when she saw the police run past her. She knew, _knew_, they were headed for Aaron. She screamed Aaron's name, and she knew that he was going to be incredibly angry at her for giving away her location in order to warn him.

She didn't really care. It was an incredibly easy decision to make. He could yell at her all he wanted, but she had to make sure he was there to yell at her.

She was fast. Aaron had drilled into her head that she had to be able to outrun someone chasing her.

"Who's going to chase me?" She would ask with a crooked smile, Aaron would frown.

"You need to stop underestimating them. You need to be prepared. I need you to be prepared. If anything happens to you…" He shook his head as if to dislodge the thought. "You need to learn how to take care of yourself if I'm not around." The next time he came to her house, he had a gun. He pushed it into her hands and taught her how to shoot it. He taught her how to think on her feet.

She's cursing her abilities to think on her feet when she gets sandwiched between two officers. Suddenly Aaron is there, dropping out of the sky.

"Get down!" She doesn't hesitate. She glanced up to find Aaron, his hand extended, and a relieved smile on his face. "You okay?" She nodded. "Good." He kissed her hard, and took her hand.

He doesn't let go.

She followed him blindly, grateful that he's there, confident that he'll get them out of this in one piece. She trusts him absolutely. She climbs when he tells her to climb, she jumps when he tells her to jump.

"Take this," he shoved his bag into her hands. "Walk forward. Don't look back. Okay?" He sounded so confident, that she felt just a tiny bit better. She jerked her head a couple of times and walked in the direction he had instructed. She wasn't sure what was going to happen, but she didn't have much time to think about it before Aaron came flying up on a motorcycle, handing her a helmet, and telling her to get on.

Her fingers gripped his coat as they careened their way through Manila, the LARX agent on their tail. Her heart stopped when she heard Aaron's hiss of pain and she pulled her hand away to see sticky, red blood.

"You've been shot! Pull over!"

"It's okay, I'm okay. We need to get to the water," Aaron assured her. She turned back to see the LARX agent still following them. He had more lives than a cat.

It happened so fast. Suddenly the LARX agent is gone, and they're skidding to a halt on the ground. It hurts, _God_, does it hurt, but her concern is Aaron.

"Are you okay?" She asked, and she started breathing again when he nodded and reached up for her hand. She heard movement and was startled to find a little boy standing there.

"Help, please?" Her voice cracked, and her grip on Aaron's hand never wavered. She helped Aaron sit up as the fisherman appeared behind his son.

"That man," he gestured to the fallen LARX agent. "He was trying to take my wife." Aaron unclasped the watch he had stolen from the Australian at the factory and held it out in an offering. "Please. Help us. She's everything to me." Marta squeezed his hand and closed her eyes, resting her forehead on his shoulder briefly.

The man hesitated only another moment before coming to help Marta pull Aaron to his feet. She ignored her own aches and pains as they made their way slowly onto the boat. The fisherman led them down to the cabins under the deck, and in very rudimentary English told them he would take them wherever they needed to go, and that if they needed anything to let him or his son know.

"Thank you," Marta gave him a grateful smile before settling Aaron onto the small bed.

The door is shut behind them only microseconds before Aaron's arms are around her, his nose buried in her hair.

"Are you okay?" He asked. She snorted, because she was so far from okay, but she was in his arms, and they were, at least for the time being, safe, and that was something.

"I should be asking you that. You need stitches. I wonder if they have a sewing kit on board? Or a First Aid kit? I'll go ask to see what they have," she was halfway to her feet when Aaron tugged her back down.

"All of that can wait, Doc, I just need you here. I just need you to be okay. I need to know that you're okay," he tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her to him, and kissed her.

"I'm okay," she whispered.

"Thank God," he answered.

* * *

Aaron's favorite days are the days when he's on rest and relaxation and he can spend every waking minute with Marta.

She can't call off. First, she doesn't have that much vacation time, and second, it would be awfully suspicious if she was always off when Aaron was.

On the days that she has to go into work, Aaron stays at her house trying to fix things. The list of things in her house that need to be fixed is endless. He does an odd job here or there, and then he'll make her dinner. She can't cook to save her life, but he can. It's something that surprised her, and he shrugged it off the first time when she gushed over some pasta he had made. He hadn't known that he was good at cooking until he had grabbed a cookbook that had clearly never been touched on Marta's bookshelf and searched until he found a recipe for something that Marta had all the ingredients for. Then he started finding other recipes and making Marta grocery lists. She would go shopping while he was away, stocking her refrigerator and cupboards with all the things he had requested. Cooking, he explained to her, was just following directions, and he had always been very good at following directions.

He waits for her to come home and when she does, he meets her at the door with a kiss, pushing her back into the wall as her briefcase falls out of hands and she makes this contented noise in the back of her throat that drives him crazy.

They usually eat wrapped in sheets, or with Marta dressed only in one of Aaron's t-shirts. It looks better on her than it ever did on him, and she looks so adorable that he has to kiss her silly.

"I love you," he tells her for the first time over a glass of wine and a plate full of salmon. Her eyes go wide. He's leaving the next day, for God knows how long, and he needs her to know it before he goes.

She's on her feet in seconds, moving towards him and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I love you too," she breathes.

He leaves early the next morning, Marta still sleeping soundly. He presses a kiss to her bare shoulder blade, and leaves a note on her pillow telling her that he loved her and that he would be back as soon as he could.

It's not ideal, the situation, but Marta is worth the hassle and the worry.

She's everything he didn't know he could have, and he promises himself that he'll protect her, no matter what.


	4. Barely keeping time

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Aaron spent the first few days on the boat in pain, but he had Marta, and they were safe, and honestly, that was enough.

She took care of him at first, until he began to heal, quickly of course, thanks to her previous genetic modifications. When he began to heal, he took over. She was in pain too. He saw the bruises and scrapes. He kissed each one tenderly as he thanked whatever deity was listening that she was relatively okay. He held her at night as the boat rocked, and pressed desperate kisses all over her body, and tried to figure out a plan.

Aaron hated that she had gotten hurt, and that she was in danger. But then, she had been in danger from the very first time his lips met hers, and it turned out that she had been in danger from the very first time she stepped foot inside that godforsaken lab. She had been in danger as soon as she accepted the job.

He hated when she woke up at night from a nightmare and he had to hold her until she was calm again. His heart broke as she twisted the fabric of his shirt in her fingers, trying desperately to feel safe. He hated the terrified look on her face, and the way that her lip trembled, but she refused to cry.

She was a warrior. She was his warrior.

And holy God did he love her.

He couldn't be too sorry that for the first time, when he climbed into bed next to her there wasn't a time where he would need to climb back out. They were on the run, and they were nursing wounds, but he had her with him and he didn't ever have to walk out the door leaving an apology on her pillow.

When she was finally sleeping peacefully, he left a kiss on her bare shoulder and slipped out of the tiny cot that they shared, and stepped out onto the deck.

He helped the fisherman and his son when he could, and when they assured him they had everything under control, he grabbed a couple of pieces of fruit and a map.

He had the map spread out in front of him when he heard the sound of soft footfalls behind him.

Marta was wearing his t-shirt and a smile, and she was the damned sexiest sight he had ever seen.

"Are we lost?" She asked with a crooked smile.

"No, no," he assured her, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear and pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

"Oh," she leaned in to kiss him, and her kiss lingered slightly longer than his had. "I was kind of hoping we were." Aaron smirked and tugged her so that she slid on the bench closer to him.

"Well, I guess we could be lost for a little while longer," he murmured, she gave him a wide smile and ran her lithe fingers through his hair. Her lips were soft, and tasted unmistakably like Marta, with just the slightest hint of salt water.

"Do you have a plan? Or are we going to live on this boat forever?" She asked.

"Want to live on this boat forever?" He asked.

"Not really," Marta shrugged. "But I'm pretty easy. I'll go wherever you are." He stopped kissing her long enough to show her the map, show her where he thought they were and where he suspected they were heading. He surprised her by telling her that they weren't going to disappear into the wild jungles of Vietnam, but instead told her that he had been talking to the fisherman who was arranging for the two of them to buy a boat which they would then use to sail to Indonesia.

"What's in Indonesia? Why Indonesia?" She was counting on a massive, chaotic place to allow them to go undetected. She wished that she knew more about geography and about all these tiny countries scattered along the Pacific so she could help out with the planning. She trusted Aaron, without hesitation, but she also liked having knowledge and feeling useful.

"I have a couple of safe houses on a couple of the different islands," he explained. "Outcome knows nothing about it. I have a few of them scattered here and there, and the boat will make it easier for us to travel without having to worry about being caught on camera in an airport.

"Safe houses?" Marta was even more surprised, but Aaron cupped her face in his hands to look at her.

"I've been planning our exodus for a while, Doc," he admitted. "I've been working on a way to keep you safe from the very first moment I met you."

"I trust you," she told him. "Whatever you think is best." It made his heart stutter, her total faith in him, and he promised himself that he wouldn't let her down.

He would protect this woman until his last breath.

The exchange for the boat went smoothly, and Marta spent the day gathering supplies in the tiny village for their ride to the first of Aaron's safe houses. The fisherman, Mario, had done well in finding them a boat for a decent price, and she added that to the list of favors she owed the man.

The boat wasn't much to look at, but it belonged to just her and Aaron, and she was grateful for that.

It was smaller than Mario's boat had been, and she took the time to put sheets on the tiny bed in the cabin, a luxury not provided to them on Mario's boat, and spent her days reading a book while Aaron sailed. He had insisted on a canopy of sorts covering the top of the boat to try to cover them from any and all satellites, and Marta realized with a start that she had nearly forgotten that they were still running for their lives.

She had forgotten the men hot on their trails. It felt so natural, her and Aaron, alone, that for a few moments she hadn't remembered the reason that they were on this boat.

They spent hours tangled in the sheets she had been so particular about, Aaron's breath warm on her neck as they lay in a heap of jumbled limbs.

She was almost sorry to see land, but not sorry enough that she didn't rejoice when their feet touched solid ground finally.

They had miles to walk when they finally docked the boat; Aaron wanted to leave the boat as far away from his safe house as possible. Marta didn't complain about the hike. It was far preferable to hike slowly for a few miles than to run at a breakneck speed because a ruthless killing machine was what felt like only _inches_ behind you. Aaron kept a firm grip on her hand, and when she slowed slightly, he gave her hand a squeeze.

"You doing okay, Doc?" He asked.

"Yeah," she forced a smile, but the truth was that she hadn't healed quite as quickly as Aaron, and she still had some aches and bruises that were choosing that moment to make themselves known. He frowned slightly.

"You're hurting," it wasn't a question. He knew her well enough to know that this walk was taking a toll on her body. He had thought about docking the boat closer to the safe house and then moving it after she was safely tucked away, but he hadn't liked the idea of being away from her for that long. "Let's stop."

"No," Marta shook her head. "I'm fine." She ran a hand down his face and gave him a kiss. "Let's just keep going. The faster we go the faster we're there."

"It's not much farther," he assured her, and suddenly wrapped his arms around her and crushed her to him. When he pulled away, she looked at him, slightly confused. "I'm just overwhelmingly grateful that I'm here with you." A smile slid onto Marta's face as she leaned in to kiss him.

"I'm hot, aching, and in the middle of some jungle on an island whose name I could not tell you," she said to him. "But there's no where I'd rather be."

Aaron's safe house was on the beach, slightly elevated from the rest of the beach, with a clear view in all directions.

He knew that this place was off the grid, but he still spent some time when they finally arrived making sure no one followed them, or had accidentally stumbled upon this place.

He had money stashed in the walls, along with a cache of weapons and new passports for both he and Marta.

He also had a picture of Marta, tucked in among the documents and cash, and when she spied it, she immediately crashed her mouth to his.

"I love you," she said as they tumbled backwards onto the bed.

"What about the sheets?" Aaron asked between kisses, and gave her a smirk. She ignored him, instead focusing her attention on undoing his belt buckle.

When they were boneless and sweaty, Marta laid with her head on his chest listening to him breathe.

"This place is beautiful," she told him and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"Not as beautiful as you," he murmured.

"How long are we going to stay here?" She asked, willing herself to get up and put sheets on their bed and maybe make them something to eat and do a general inventory of their supplies. But it was hard to make herself leave the safety of Aaron's arms wrapped tightly around her.

"For a few weeks at least," Aaron answered. "Give us some time to recuperate."

"Are we going to live like this for the rest of our lives? Jumping from safe house to safe house, constantly looking behind our shoulders? Hoping that they've lost interest in us?"

"They'll never lose interest in us," Aaron said, and then mentally kicked himself. It was the last thing that Marta wanted to hear. She wanted reassurance. She wanted to know that they were safe; that Aaron wouldn't let anything happen to her.

"So what? Is this our life? Is this our plan?" It wasn't, she reflected, the worst future she could have imagined for herself.

She was with Aaron, and that was enough. More than enough, actually. But it would be nice not to have to worry constantly. It would be nice to be able to bring Aaron back to meet her mother and her sister. To live a normal life in a normal house, where Aaron didn't have to sneak in and out.

"This is our plan for now," Aaron said. He gathered her even closer, if that was possible, and held tight. "I'm working on a long term plan. I'm going to get you your life back, Doc. That's a promise."

She was quiet, and then she kissed his neck, at his pulse point.

"You are my life, Aaron," she finally said. "I don't need anything else."


End file.
